.

"Good afternoon, Miss Smith"--to me. "You've never shaken hands with me
yet. But I suppose this is scarcely the moment to remind you, when I've
taken on a job several pegs below what I was when I saw you last----"

Of course, at that I had to give him my hand. I said: "But why are you
Miss Davis's chauffeur?"

"Because I couldn't get a job with Miss Million," he told me simply.
"She hasn't got a car of her own yet. Not that she'd have me, in any
case--a man she'd found out deceiving her about her own relatives!"

"But why 'the job,' anyhow?"

"I must earn my living--honestly if possible," said the Honourable Jim
with his wickedest twinkle.

"Also I'd made up my mind a little change of air in Wales would do me
good just now, and I'd no friends who happened to be coming to these
parts. It was these parts I'd set my heart on.

"The mountain scenery! Can you beat it? And when I saw the advertisement
of that old trout upstairs there--I mean that elegant maiden lady with
private means and a nice house and a car of her own--I jumped at
answering it. The country round about is so romantic. That drew me, Miss
Lovelace.... Well, I suppose I must be tooting her home."

He turned to the back entrance.

Then he turned to me once more and launched his most audacious bit of
nonsense yet.

He said, softly laughing: "Ah! You know well enough why I'm here. It's
to be near you, child."

What a good thing it is that I know exactly how to take this laughing,
blarneying, incorrigible Irishman! What a blessing that I am not as poor
little Miss Million was, who was utterly taken in by any blatantly
insincere compliment that this young--well, I can say no worse than
"this young Celt" chose to toss off!

So I just said lightly, "Too flattered!" and hurried away to hand the
callers their wraps and umbrellas in the hall.

I'm glad I was in time to witness another rather priceless scene.

Namely, the entrance of Miss Vi Vassity into the hall with the other
ladies, and her recognition of the big young man in the laurel-green
livery, with the handsome face so stolidly set under the peaked
chauffeur's cap.

"Jim!" exclaimed the comedienne, in a piercing treble. "Well, whatever
next? If it isn't my pal Jim Burke!"

"Just the sort of person one would expect her to have for a 'pal,' as
she calls it," came in a not-too-soft aside from the owner of the car,
then, haughtily, "Home, Burke."

"Yes, Miss," said the new chauffeur, as re